Just One Look (Women of Substance) (3 page)

On top of a manila folder lay a single red rose and what looked like a box of chocolates. Removing the rose and the box, he walked back across the carpet and offered them to me.

I’d had flowers from several male friends, but that beautiful, single red rose touched me far more than it should have. Meeting his dark gaze, I felt my emotional defenses crumbling. I accepted the rose, but not the box of chocolates. “The rose is beautiful.”

“So are you.”

I knew most men found me attractive but none had ever called me beautiful. Standing there without makeup, I believed him. I smiled. “Apology accepted. Thanks.”

“You don’t like chocolates?” he asked.

“Of course I do, but clearly I don’t need those. They’re decadent and probably have about a thousand calories in each piece.”

“A beautiful, confident woman of substance has no need to worry about a few calories.”

In the act of turning away, I paused and met his gaze.

He sighed. “Damn, please don’t tell me I’ve said something wrong again.”

“No.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

I shook my head. “My father calls my mom and me women of substance. He uses the term as a compliment.”

“That’s how I’m using it as well,” he said, pushing the expensive box of chocolates at me.

Meeting his gaze, I was lost and the rest of my emotional defenses crumbled. I accepted the chocolates and walked over to the sofa where I sat, trying not to stare at him.

He made that harder when he crossed the room to sit next to me on the sofa.

I stared straight ahead, surprised at how tongue tied and unsure of myself I felt with him.

“Are you shy?” he asked.

I didn’t go around having one-night stands but I was no shrinking violet either. Still, there was something about him that attracted me so strongly all I could think about was sex. “Not particularly.”

He slid his arm along the backseat of the sofa so his fingertips brushed against the back of my neck.

I sat forward and turned to look at him. “Thanks for bringing my tote. I won’t keep you any longer.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Is that your charming way of telling me it’s time to take my ass elsewhere?”

“In a word? Yes.” Before I did something crazy—like straddle him and kiss the taste out of his mouth.

He laughed and remained seated. “What do your close friends call you?”

“Rena.”

“Mine call me Andy.”

“That’s not nearly as impressive as Anderson,” I said.

“Then by all means call me Anderson.”

“I don’t think there’s going to be any point.”

“I disagree. Tell me Rena, are you in an exclusive relationship?”

The question thrilled me because I knew he shared my interest. “Why do you ask?”

“Why do you think I’m asking?”

I’d never dated a white man before but the thought of going out with him excited me. “No. I’m not in an exclusive relationship,” I finally admitted.

“Good. Now wouldn’t you like to ask me to stay for dinner?”

Seated next to him food was the last thing on my mind. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Ok. Would you like to come out to dinner with me?”

I parted my lips.

He pressed a finger against my mouth. “Let me guess. No. You wouldn’t? Right?”

I leaned away from his finger without kissing it. “Right.”

He laughed and stood up. “Point taken. I’ll see myself out.” He smiled and walked towards the door.

Are you insane? Why are you letting him walk away?
“Wait a minute.”

He turned to smile at me. “Changed your mind already?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Are you married?”

He shook his head and held up his bare left hand.

But he surely had a woman or women in his life.

“Anything else?” he asked, his gaze lingering on my breasts.

Yes. Would you like to fuck me?
With my cheeks burning at my thoughts, I shook my head.

After a last glance at my breasts, he walked out of the living room.

My breasts are large and natural and I’ve always been a push over for a man who enjoyed looking at them. I got up and followed him into the foyer. “Is there a special woman in your life?”

There was a noticeable pause before he leaned against the door, staring at me. “I’m not married or engaged.”

“But there is someone special?”

He sighed. “Depends what you mean by special.”

“Do you two live together?”

“No.”

“But you have an exclusive relationship?”

“I don’t think she’s seeing anyone else but that’s her choice. She’s as free to date anyone she wants to without any explanation to me as I am to see you. I don’t owe her any particular exclusivity and she doesn’t owe me any.”

I shook my head. Men.

“She knows I reserve the right to date anyone I want.”

Charming. “And you do—knowing how she feels about you?”

“I’m not now nor have I ever pretended to be in love with her and—”

“Does she love you?”

“I doubt it. Look, I’m single and free to see who I like. And I’d like to see you.”

And I sure as well wanted to see him. There was no reason why I shouldn’t as long as I didn’t lose sight of the fact that I wouldn’t be the only woman he was seeing. The thought didn’t sit well with me until I decided to look on a possible relationship with him as a meaningless fling.

He pushed himself away from the door to come stand in front of me. He brushed a hand against the back of my cheek.

I clenched my teeth in an effort to conceal the jolt I felt at his light touch.

“This is much ado about nothing. My relationship with her has always been causal.”

“So you’re in the market for another meaningless relationship with me?”

He allowed his hand to drop to his side. “What I’m not in the market for is having my ass dragged over the fire for something that’s none of your concern. I don’t have any emotional or moral obligations that make my seeing you an issue. I’ve made it clear I’d like to see you. If you’re not interested, that’s your privilege. Good night.” He opened the door and left.

I sighed.
You handled that well–not! A man like him doesn’t have to beg for dates. He won’t ask you out again. I hope you’re happy.

Chapter Two

Anderson

I left Narena Devon’s apartment feeling as if she’d put a noticeable dent in my pride. I was not used to a woman expecting me to jump through hoops for the privilege of taking her out. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time a woman had refused to go out with me.

As I sat in my car in her complex parking lot trying to decide if I were more annoyed than intrigued, my cell phone rang. I recognized Caren’s ring. She was the reason I’d struck out so spectacularly with Narena Devon.

After a moment of indecision, I decided to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hi Andy. I’m feeling in need of some…benefits. I hope you were able to take care of your errands and we’re still on for tonight.”

I could spend the night brooding because a woman I hadn’t even known existed that morning had kicked my ass to the curb or I could get laid after a night out. “Pick you up in an hour?”

“Great. I’ll be waiting,” she said.

I ended the call and started the engine. To hell with Narena Devon. It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed her or any other woman to make me jump through hoops. There were too many willing women for me to waste time trying to cajole her into going out with me.

Caren was waiting when I arrived at her apartment. She looked stunning in a sleeveless black dress with her long blond hair framing her pretty face. As I bent to brush my mouth against hers, I dismissed a sudden and annoying thought of Narena Devon’s full-lipped mouth.

After dinner and dancing, I drove Caren home. We had a drink before we went into her bedroom. I was annoyed that the sex wasn’t as satisfying as it usually was. And when I woke in the early morning hours, it was Narena I thought of—even with Caren lying naked beside me.

Fuck! I slipped out of bed, picked up my cell phone and pants from the floor and walked into the living room. I made a call and then took a quick shower and dressed.

Caren yawned and sat up in bed as I slipped on my shoes. “Come back to bed, sweetie.”

I hated being called sweetie. Why? I wasn’t sure. I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I need to get home for work tomorrow.”

“Call me?”

Even though I doubted I’d want to spend too many more nights in her bed, I nodded.

“I’m already missing you, sweetie.” She turned her head and kissed me on my mouth before curling on her side under the covers.

I drove home, kicked off my shoes, set my alarm clock, and drifted to sleep thinking about Narena Devon.

Narena

After a sleepless night, filled with regrets that I hadn’t gone out with Anderson Prescott, I was struggling to write my article when a dozen red roses and an elaborate fruit basket arrived.

I immediately suspected they were from Anderson since neither Jim nor Rick had ever sent me flowers. Delighted that Anderson was still interested, I reached for the accompanying card.

I’m looking forward to seeing you again very soon. Anderson.

Yes! Most of my tension dissolved. Smiling, I finished my coffee and settled down to write the article with more focus.

When I finished, I checked my personal email. I was delighted to find one from Anderson. I eagerly opened and read it.

We have reservations for dinner tonight at my favorite restaurant. Dress ranges from casual to dressy. Your choice but I’m wearing a suit sans tie. I’ll pick you up at six. Please be ready. Andy.

My brothers had often warned me that a man appreciated a woman more when she played a little hard to get. But after my sleepless night, I didn’t want to play games and risk losing his interest. On the other hand, my brothers had a better understanding of how the male mind worked than I ever would.

After several minutes of indecision I wrote back.

Thanks so much for the invitation but I already have plans for tonight. Rena.

I paused on the verge of sending the message. Was it too stark? Worse would it discourage him from asking me out again? After a moment’s thought, I erased it and composed a new one.

Thank you for the beautiful roses, the fruit basket, and the dinner invitation. Unfortunately, I already have plans for tonight. Please ask me again. Rena.

I press
enter
sending the email on its way and then sat staring nervously at my monitor waiting for his response.

Anderson

Narena’s response to my dinner invitation pissed me off. What the hell did a man have to do to get a date with her?
Please ask me again.
I inhaled slowly, my gaze narrowed. I’d ask her out again—when hell froze the fuck over.

Yes, she was attractive and thoughts of getting to know her intimately aroused me, but I’d never had to chase a woman down and beg her to go out with me. I wasn’t going to start with her.

Resisting the temptation to tell her to fuck off, I turned my attention back to work. It took a surprising amount of effort to keep thoughts of her at bay. But I did it because I knew there were a lot of other women just as attractive who would gladly go out with me.

Narena

Twenty minutes later, I decided to pass the time by finding out as much about Anderson Prescott as possible. When I did an online search of his name, I found two professional sites. One was an Internet Marketing business. The other offered professional accounting services. He had an MBA from Temple University and had earned his CPA twelve years earlier.

There was nothing of a personal nature about him on either site.

What had he been doing at the ballpark the previous day? More importantly when would he respond to my email?

After a few hours without a response from him, I spent fifteen tortuous minutes on my exercise bike. Then I took a shower, dressed, and drove to Candi’s for dinner.

While she ate, I picked at my food and told her about Anderson.

She stared at me. “He asked you out?”

I nodded. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I’m not surprised he asked you. What surprises me is that you’re here with me instead of having dinner with him. What’s up with that?”

I laughed. “Believe me, I wanted to blow you off but honestly, I think my brothers know how to handle a man better than I do.”

“Are you going to go out with him the next time he asks?”

I sighed and pushed my plate away. “At this point, I hope it is when and not if.”

“If it is if, you take the plunge and ask him out,” she said.

“I haven’t asked a man out since my freshman year in college.”

“Then don’t you think it’s time you did it again, girl?”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Candi.”

“But you will ask him if it does?”

I shrugged. “Maybe…oh, I don’t know. If I did and he said no, I’d be crushed.”

“Come into the current century with the rest of us, Rena. Give him a few days. A week tops. If he doesn’t ask you out again, you ask him out.” She sipped from her wine glass. “What do you know about this woman and his relationship with her?”

I shook my head. “Nothing except what he told me.”

“Do you believe him that it’s not supposed to be an exclusive relationship?”

I hesitated. “He could have lied and told me he wasn’t seeing anyone special and I wouldn’t have known any better. Yes. I believe him.”

“But?”

I sighed. “I hate to think she might be in love with him and he was happy with their relationship until we met.”

“Oh, come on, Rena. Don’t go there. They’re not married or engaged or even in an exclusive relationship. It’s not your fault if she can’t hold his attention. I say go for it.”

Recalling the feel of his big, muscled body under mine, I smiled. “Oh, I’d like to.”

“So you’re going to accept his next invitation?”